#corgi's writing

[pallysuune]

Summery: You were unfortunate enough to catch the eye of Jago Sevatarion. By some stroke of luck, you were able to slip away from him. There's only one thing you forgot to take into account - the Captain's Raven still haunts the ship.

Pairing: None really? Sevatar/fem!Reader/Rushal eventually.

Warnings: Night Lords are just a warning all their own. Especially Sev and Rushal. Not much else here.

A/N: No smut here, but maybe I'll make a second part with it, if people would like one.

You had always heard such horrible rumors about what the Night Lord's did to their serfs. You had done the best you could to keep your head down and desperately tried to be as uninteresting as possible. You were human. You were disposable. Worse than that, some of the Night Lords enjoyed hurting humans, and would use any excuse to relieve a serf of their position to use as a toy.

But you'd messed up. After a long, frustrating day, you'd snapped to one of the other humans about what you would do to one of the more rude Astartes if you 'got your hands on them'.

You were scrubbing the floor and didn't see the man you were talking to go pale. Didn't see someone looming behind you.

"Is that so?"

You'd frozen at the sound of that impossibly deep rasp. Your heart stopped. You thought you were going to die, right then and there. You didn't need to look up to know who it was.

And you didn't look up, you just pivoted toward him, pressing your forehead to the ground. "M- my lord, forgive me, I-" you gasped, your voice wavering with dear.

"Save it," Sevatar dismissed your words. "Look at me."

You couldn't bring yourself to look up. Your heart was racing too fast, the world darkened at the edges of your vision. It was only when he shifted impatiently, when you heard that slight squeak of the pneumatics of his armor, that you moved, jerking your head up so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

You looked up at Jago Sevatarion, your heart in your throat. He looked back down at you, impassive and apparently unconcerned with your panic. He studied you a moment longer, then his lips twisted into a smirk.

"Come to my rooms after the serf's final meal tonight," he said. And before you could say anything, he turned and walked away.

Oh.

Oh, you were so dead.

You looked back at the other serf who you had been speaking to, only to find them frantically washing the floor, ignoring you. Well, you couldn't blame him. It was every human for them self on a Night Lord ship. Which also meant you were on your own if you wanted to find a way to survive.

You had to run.

The serfs day was separated into times to work, times to eat, and times to sleep. There was a morning meal, and an evening meal. You decided to wait until the change between work and meal time to slip away when all the serfs were shuffling from one place to another. You slipped into a serf's corridor and then, from there, into the vents. You couldn't think of anywhere else to go. It wasn't a permanent solution, you knew, but you didn't know what else to do and you were panicking.

So you crawled through the vents until you found a dark little maintenance corridor. There, you pressed your back to the wall in a corner, pulled your legs up to your chest, and tucked your face into your knees.

You were scared and alone, in the dark. It all weighed down on you. All you could do was close your eyes and cry.

How long you stayed like that, you had no idea.

There was the faintest sound just in front of you. Your head snapped up and your heart stopped.

He looked like a ghost, crouched just in front of you. An Astartes without any armor on, dressed only in black linen pants and shirt. Long, messy black hair framed scarred, paper white face. The heaviest scarring was around his mouth and lips. His eyes were pure black from corner to corner as he looked at you.

You'd forgotten about him. He was so rarely seen.

The Raven.

Sevatar's Raven.

Tears welled in your eyes immediately. "Please," you whispered.

He just looked at you, studying you silently for a long moment. Then he raised a hand, making a complicated series of signs you didn't understand. You shook your head, tears slipping silently down your cheek.

"I don't understand..."

Silently, he shifted closer to you. It was impressive that he could fit in the maintenance tunnel at all, let alone move so smoothly and so quietly. You realized with a little spike of horror that the sound you heard before, the one that had alerted you to his presence at all, must have been intentional.

He stopped just in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body against your legs.

"Please," you whispered again. You squeezed your eyes shut, more tears spilling out. "Please don't take me to him. Just- just forget you saw me. Please."

A large, calloused finger traced the curve of your cheek, not wiping the tear away as much as following it, trailing it down your skin. Your breath hitched in a rough sob. He cupped your cheek. His hand was large and warm, and despite the well-worn hardness of his skin, he was gentle when he touched you. As if you were glass.

"Please?" You whimpered, trying one last time, as your eyes fluttered open to look up at him.

He met your gaze with his, and slowly, so slowly, shook his head.

Your heart fell.

[bluerosefox]

Good Doggos Give Hope!

Cujo was, is a good boy both in life and in death.

He knows this. Everyone knows this.

So when Cujo notices his favorite half boy seemed more hurt than normal when he goes to see him, notices how stressed and on the verge of tears, notices the strain in his voice as he pretends to be okay as he pets Cujo's head. Cujo knows his favorite boy needs help.

Cujo is a good boy, and as he listens to his favorite boy and his friends talk about the GIW getting more deadly, how his parents inventions are becoming to much, how Vlad circling around his favorite boy even more often, how he's failing more classes again. Cujo decides his favorite boy needs helps.

But first Cujo needs to figure out how.

He needs help.

He needs... hope.

Hope to find help for his favorite boy.

'Everything will be okay!' A voice spoke to him, Cujo spooked yelped and flew higher than he already was and he boofed when he realized he was no longer alone... or on earth anymore, turns out he started floating up and away from earth when he started thinking of how to help his favorite boy.

Cujo, floating from both him being a ghost and from space, turned around to see... Oh! A fellow dog! Who glows blue! It has been a while since played with another dog!

He barked, tail wagging in greeting at the idea of meeting a new and fellow floating friend.

'You new friend. Need hope? I help!' The other dog voice echoed out as their tail wagged as well 'We play soon but first hope! I knows many who can help!'

Cujo barked back in excitement, yes, hope for his favorite boy is here!

[gorkloum]

would L have kids in his 40s? By kids I mean newborn babies or toddlers xD

better!

actually i donot know lmao

[pallysuune]

Summery: Another small character study on The Raven

a/n: Just me turning this man in my head like a gas station hot dog again. xD

There would always be those who assumed Rushal was a broken man. Those of his former legion especially who saw him among the Night Lords seemed to think that. That his mind had been shattered and he was now nothing more than an animal. A kept pet. But the truth was far more simple, if more difficult to accept: he was just a man who had made a choice.

He had been taken against his will and tortured, it was true, but he had not been shattered. Worn down, but not broken. Not completely, at least. There were things in his own mind that he had had to come to terms with, in that cell, under a knife. How little his primarch would care that he was missing and presumed dead. How the Legion's 'adopted primarch' had betrayed them. How little it all actually mattered.

He was not of the Raven Guard. He never had been. He had been of the unnamed XIXth. That Legion was gone. And he did not belong among what had taken it's place. And so, he made the decision not to return to it.

Just as there were those who would always think of him as a broken pet, there would always be those who saw Sevatar as his master. The man controlling the shattered, broken Raven. But that wasn't really true, either. Sevatar had given him a place to belong, where he did not have to conform to the standards of superiors who didn't want him the way he was. And, in return, he had given Sevatar the one thing he could never get in his own Legion: someone he could trust.

"Do you want to return to your brothers?"

The taste of blood was cloying and thick against the back of his throat, distracting, but not enough to take away from the question or the whirlwind of thoughts it inspired. He looked up into pitch-black eyes, so alike his own. Did he want to return? Were they even his brothers any more? Was it even still his legion anymore?

He knew the answer in his hearts. It made his stomach sink.

He shook his head slowly.

Sevatar's brows arched, curiosity glittering in his dark eyes. "Oh? Interesting."

Somehow who was not of Nostramo, who did not scheme the way they did, who would not stab him in the back at the first sign of weakness. Someone who had not grown up in a world where it was every man for himself and had brought that into the Legion. He had grown among a Legion, and before that from a tribe, that valued the ability to work alone within a group. Valuing both cooperation and personal capability. Trust had been paramount, both trust in those around you and the ability to be trustworthy yourself.

Rushal had given that to Sevetar.

It had taken the Prince of Crows a long while to get his mind around it. He never really understood it, but he did come to accept it eventually. He put his trust in Rushal, and slowly grew comfortable with the knowledge that that trust would not be betrayed.

There was a symbiosis there, between them.

And so, those who saw him may always think he was some broken, tattered thing, but Rushal had never felt more like himself.

[gremlinshatephilosophers]

Ice Cream and a Corgi

Rating: G • Words: 1,351

Summary: "I feel better when you're here." Phil should know by now not to push himself too far and take his health for granted. Most of the time he's pretty good at it, but migraines are unpredictable. In his ideal world none of this would happen in the first place, but if he can't avoid it, a bit of daydreaming with Dan by his side makes it all just a tiny bit more bearable.

[pallysuune]

Summery: Sevatar takes solace in his Raven when his psyker headaches grow to be too much. Literally.

Pairing: Sevatar/Rushal

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, blood, typical Sevatar and Rushal stuff.

A/N: I love these two toxic boys. Don't judge me.

Rushal knows the headaches are getting to be too bad when Sevatar grabs him and slams him too hard against the wall, forcing his mouth to slot over his. He doesn't blame him for the violence, never. Half their relationship is violence. It's what they're both made for, something they'll never get away from. But Sevatar has eased toward him with time, and so these moments stand out all the more. How Sevatar pressed against him like he's trying to drown in him. Like he needs him to survive.

It's just a balm, he knows. A salve. An attempt to drive away the pain that splits apart his mind from the inside out. He can't actually save Sevatar from what is slowly killing him, though he wished he could. This is the best he could do.

He relaxes pliantly under Sevatar's hands as the Captain kisses him, tongue stealing into his mouth, tracing the scars along the inside of his cheek, caressing the stump of his tongue. Rushal lets out a low sound, more a rumble in the air between them than an actual noise. Sevatar's fingers dig hard into his shoulders.

Hands scramble at his tunic. His own find purchase in Sevatar's shirt. Neither of them have much regard for the fabric in moments like this. The sound of it ripping is drowned out by a deeper groan from the Raven as Sevatar's hand palms him roughly through his pants.

The metallic scent of blood registers in his mind slowly. There's something wet on his lips. He rears his head back. Sevatar is looking up at him, tension at the corner of his eyes. His nose is bleeding. The red stands out starkly against his skin.

Rushal raises a hand toward his face.

“Leave it,” Sevatar barks, pushing forward to kiss him again. Desperate, barely contained. He rakes red welts across Rushal's chest, nails catching on scars. Small beads of blood rise to the surface of his skin in their wake. Rushal hisses, but doesn't try to stop him.

In a whirlwind of motion, the rest of his clothes are torn away, and he's turned to face the wall, pressed up against it by a heavy forearm against the back of his neck. He splays his hands across the cold plasteel and closes his eyes. Spit-slick fingers press to - and into - his ass. He lets a shapeless groan slip past his lips, his eyes slipping closed.

Sevatar does not allow him long, but Rushal doesn't mind. The burn as Sevatar finally pulls his fingers out and sheaths himself in him is familiar, almost welcome. A hand grips his hip, nails digging in roughly, leaving crescent shapes in his skin. The other arm is still laying across the back of his neck. Sevatar holds him in place and fucks him roughly.

And fuck, it feels good.

He's unbearably hard himself. He slips a hand down, curling his fingers around his length. Sevatar does not stop him. He's growling like something wild behind him, lost in it all, his only anchor the feeling of Rushal's body beneath his.

Rushal fucks his palm in the same rhythm as the buck of Sevatar's hips. He feels something hot drip onto his back. It rolls down his back slowly. Blood from Sevatar's nose. The feeling of it slowly running down the taut muscles of his back sends a shiver rushing up his spine.

It isn't long until Sevatar slams his hips against his ass, burying himself in him as he comes, cock pulsing as he fills him. He growls, feral and dark, before slowly relaxing. He slumps, his forehead resting against Rushal's back. He can feel the tickle of Sevatar's hair against his skin.

He has the honor of hearing words no one else likely ever would from the Captain as Sevatar whispers against him.

“I'm sorry.”

If the act itself was reminiscent of the darker time directly after his torture, that feeling is broken by just those two words. Rushal reaches back, tapping Sevatar's hips lightly. He gets the hint and draws back, slipping out of Rushal.

The Raven doesn't bother to finish himself. It isn't about him at the moment. Instead, he takes a ripped piece of his shirt and unceremoniously cleans himself up, grabbing another and moving to where Sevatar has slumped down onto his bed, sitting casually across it with his back propped against the wall. Using the same soiled rag, Rushal cleans him, before tossing it away. With the second, clean tatter of cloth, he leans close and gently wipes the blood from Sevatar's face. Already, the flow has become sluggish. It will stop soon enough.

Sevatar's closed eyes flickered slightly open when Rushal cleans his face, looking over at him with a grimace, before closing again. The corners of his eyes are still pinched from pain, but it seems to be fading.

With them both cleaned up, Rushal pulls Sevatar down to the bed. It takes a moment for them both to arrange themselves comfortably, in a tangle of muscular limbs and heavy bodies.

The door is locked. It is just the two of them in the darkness of Sevatar's quarters. Safe in a way neither wants to think of too hard. It takes a long time for Sevatar to finally sleep. Rushal knows from experience he won't sleep long. He can only hope the headache has eased the rest of the way by the time he wakes up.

[piplupfluffwritingstuff2]

Would you ever write a fluff piece about hero and villain getting distracted from their (already quite flirty in that hero/villain way) battle because they see an injured dog and want to help

Neither one trusts the other to save the dog and so they both watch over it/take care of it

They end up bonding over this and as it turns out, the dog doesn’t belong to anyone. Where would it live now?

(Love your work btw <3) - ��

Hi there, Ladybug Anon! Can I call you Ladybug Anon? Anyway, thank you for requesting this, here you go! This one is kinda long, so I put it under the cut!

A well-timed fireball to Hero’s chest had them careening off the rooftop, down a fire escape, and to the hard pavement below.

“Ugh, that’s gonna bruise,” Hero mumbled.

They clambered to get to their feet and looked up at Villain watching them from above.

“Sorry, darling, I thought you were going to dodge!” they called.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Hero huffed, dusting themselves off.

Villain climbed down the fire escape and approached Hero, who threw a snowball at their face.

“Oof!”

“There, now we’re even… sort of.”

“Oh, how mature,” Villain scoffed, wiping the snow from their face.

A whimper echoed in the alleyway.

“Well, it was immature of you!” Villain argued.

“That wasn’t me!” Hero said indignantly.

Another whimper. Quiet, high-pitched, and absolutely pitiful.

Villain and Hero turned to the end of the alleyway, where a sable and white lump shivered inside a dilapidated cardboard box. They both approached it, Hero crouching down first.

Two sad brown eyes looked back at them, ears flat against their head. Fur matted with dirt.

“Oh my goodness!” Hero cooed, “you poor baby, who did this to you?”

“Hmph,” Villain folded their arms across their chest, “you never call me baby.”

“Hush.” Hero snapped.

They held a hand out to the little dog, who sniffed it cautiously. It shuffled out of the box and limped over to Hero.

“Are you hurt?” Hero asked, brows furrowed.

The dog whimpered again, then licked Hero’s hand. Villain crouched down next to Hero.

“It’s a corgi,” Villain said, “very strange to find a stray one…”

“Maybe it’s lost?” Hero suggested.

“It’s possible,” Villain agreed, “it could have a microchip. We could take it to a shelter and-”

The corgi growled, baring its teeth. Villain had been petting it, but when they started scratching near its hind leg, it didn’t appreciate it.

“Scratch that,” Hero said, “let’s take it to the vet.”

…

Vet Tech scanned the microchip and pulled up the corgi’s information.

“Says here his name is Chester, aaaand… his human is [Civilian’s full name].”

Vet Tech dialed Civilian’s number. It rang… and rang… and no response. Not even an answering machine.

“If you could give us their address we could take Chester home.” Hero said.

“Well… since it’s you asking, Hero…”

Vet Tech wrote down the address on a slip of paper. Hero thanked them and took it. Chester however, didn’t want to go. They kept clinging to Vet Tech, licking her face and covering it in puppy kisses.

“I know, I know!” they giggled, “but you’ve gotta go home! Bye-bye!”

…

Hero knocked on Civilian’s door, Villain right next to them, and Chester in their arms.

“Hello?” Civilian asked.

“We’ve found your friend!” Hero said, beaming.

Hero had expected at least a smile and a thank-you. What they weren’t expecting was the reaction they got instead.

“Dang it, why did you bring the thing back!?” they snapped.

Hero clutched Chester tightly. Villain looked dangerously calm.

“Pardon?” Villain asked.

“I turned the thing loose! I drove it into the heart of the city so it wouldn’t come back! And now you come here and bring the stupid-”

Hero conveniently turned away as Villain slammed a fist into Civilian’s face. Civilian stumbled back, crashing to the floor. Villain closed the door.

“Hero,” Villain said, “I don’t think this is Chester’s home.”

“You don’t say,” Hero remarked.

…

Chester barked happily, chasing a butterfly through the park. Hero and Villain sat on a bench, keeping a close eye on them. He was still limping, but Vet Tech had bandaged their hind leg and given them a good wash. Their fluffy fur swished in the breeze and their little nubby tail wagged swiftly back and forth.

“What do we do, Villain?” Hero asked, “neither of us have time for a puppy.”

“Speak for yourself, I would quit villainy right now if… ah, who am I kidding, then I wouldn’t get to see you~”

…

Vet Tech arrived at the park bench.

“You guys wanted to see me?”

Chester turned, hearing their voice. He barked loudly, running up to them and jumping, his tongue sticking out of his open mouth.

“Hello again!” Vet Tech smiled, crouching down to pet him.

Hero and Villain explained the situation.

“You… oh gosh, I mean, I’ve always wanted to… but I don’t know if I-”

They were interrupted by Chester’s happy bark.

Vet Tech’s gaze softened. They nodded.

“Oh all right,” they said, “I guess Chester can come home with me. But only for the time being!”

Six months later

“Chester!” Hero called, “here boy!”

Chester bolted across the park, Vet Tech watching him happily. He ran right past Hero and into Villain’s arms. Hero frowned and looked at Villain.

“Jealous, are we? That I’m the favorite this week?” Villain asked knowingly.

“Haha.”

Chester came back to Hero, barking and running in circles around them. Hero chuckled, crouching down to pet him.

“Guys, we can only play for a bit, you know Chester eats dinner at six thirty,” Vet Tech said.

“Aww,” Villain pouted.

Hero produced a dog toy from a shopping bag and squeaked it. Chester tilted his head.

“You want this, boy?” Hero asked, “go get it!”

Hero threw the toy and Chester chased after it, ecstatic. His hind leg had completely healed, and so had his heart. He finally had humans he could trust.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm@memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit @telltaletoad @bacillusinfection @noseyowes @whump-till-ya-jump @writinglittlepains

[smbhax]

Cover illustration by Giannetto Coppola and Enzo Ragazzini

Info from ISFDB

[turbulenthandholding]

12 more hours in the car today (including so many stops OMG) and I drove the whole stupid way (though...I kept control of the music the whole time so it was worth it 😂) BUT BUT BUT:

The next chapter for Gapers Delay has been (mostly) plotted (plus @anxietycroissant made magic for a future chapter too!!)

Epilogue part 2 for All This Nothing is a bit more figured out in my head

I plotted out a whole, whole bunch of Running Just In Case

And last night when I was awake at 3am I started plotting out another soul meets body extra

So it was a very productive day!

[pallysuune]

Summery: Cleaning armor turns into a sweet little moment between you and a certain Raven.

Pairing: Alastor Rushal/Reader

Warnings: For once, none. Amazing!

A/N: It's meant to be a short continuation of my Sev/Reader/Rushal series, which is usually a fem!reader, but since this one doesn't really reference any specifically gendered body parts, it could also be read as gender neutral.

You had settled into life as Sevatar's personal serf well enough. It wasn't a terribly difficult job. The Captain was a largely independent man who preferred to do much of the important work himself. You weren't allowed to touch his weapons. You cleaned his armor and the 'decorations' on it, but he tanned any new skin himself. Largely, your job consisted of laundry, cleaning, and running errands for him. Picking up data slates and reports he wanted, taking things to his brothers, handling food and drink for him on the rare occasion he ate something more than just nutrient paste.

Rushal lingered around often. You assumed he had his own room somewhere, because he wasn't always there, but he was there often. A silent shadow just lingering around, or reading, or tending his weapons. Of course, you knew the Astartes had their own things to do. Training and the like, so it didn't surprise you that you would sometimes only see your master for a few hours a day.

What was more rare were the moments that Sevatar was gone, but Rushal was there.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, with one of Sevatar's heavy leg plates held on your lap as you scrubbed at a particularly stubborn piece of grime from it. Just across from you, Rushal was also sitting on the floor, nearly mirroring your actions as he cleaned his own armor. You watched him from the corner of your eye. When you'd first met him, you'd thought his appearance particularly gruesome, even for a Space Marine. But you'd gotten more used to it. You'd learned to look past the scars and take in more of him as a person. He was softer than Sevatar was. You hesitated to say 'sweeter' but the word did come to mind when dealing with him. Maybe it was a difference between how the Raven Guard he had abandoned dealt with their serfs versus what you were used to from the Night Lords.

Maybe that was what prompted you to speak up despite the fact that you didn't actually serve him. "Do you want me to do that?"

He lifts his head a little bit to look at you and then shook his head.

You frowned slightly, your brows knitting. "Why?"

He hesitated a moment, then reached over to take his pauldron from the pile of pieces of armor on the floor. He turned it, showing you the top of it. On the matte black surface was the scraps of a white shape, just barely visible still. A white raven, broken apart. He tapped it lightly.

"You... did that yourself?" you asked.

He nodded.

"And that's why you won't let me clean your armor?"

He nodded again.

Those two things didn't quite line up in your mind, you weren't sure what him breaking his old legion sigil and you not cleaning his armor had in common, but you didn't try to figure it out too hard. Space Marines were strange. You would probably never really understand. Instead, you just tip your head to the side slightly. "Alright. Well. If I can ever help, you can just let me know..."

His expression softened slightly. He set the pauldron aside and smoothly shifted forward, up onto his hands and knees to close the distance between the two of you. One large hand came up to cup your cheek, turning your head toward him. His lips, rough and twisted, pressed against yours so very softly. Your heart skipped a beat.

It didn't last nearly long enough, in your opinion. All too soon, Rushal pulled away from you, his eyes lingering on your face. His hand still cradled his cheek. His roughly calloused thumb brushed the arch of your cheekbone lightly. And then he drew away, sitting back down and pulling his pauldron back into his lap. You were left just staring at him, as he went back to cleaning his armor.

Slowly, a small, warm smile crept across your lips. You looked back down toward Sevatar's armor, still in your lap, but it took a few moments before you actually started working again, committing the feeling of his lips against yours into your memory.

Still smiling, you got back to work, humming softly under your breath now.

[ukulelekatie]

when you accidentally type 'corgially' instead of 'cordially'

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

do what you want with me

The occupation that Ivan ended up in, ultimately, was being Lord Fyodor’s Head Chamberlain. It was a prestigious occupation indeed. Ivan was happy to have it, because of course he would be. He couldn’t remember the last time he was anything but happy! What a wonderful life he lived. Any hurt he could ignore in his constant joy, any negativity would never bother him! All thanks to Lord Fyodor. He didn’t know why his dear companion Pushkin didn’t accept the offer. - on ivan and joy

oneshot, 1094 words, ivan-centric, part of my post doa au

aka: ivan is blindly hopeful for 1kish words

[tinytalkingtina]

🏃 🏃 🏃 for me

The boys are running! Continued from here, spoiler free this time :D

Except they weren’t outside the Hawkins police station? Hopper had pulled into the parking lot of the retro diner out near the highway. Eddie stared at the pink and blue neon-covered chrome building in confusion. Was he getting them their last meal on the outside, taunting them with the smell of food that wasn’t prison slop maybe? Or worse, he needed something to wet his whistle. Though the diner didn’t serve beer, and besides, Hopper’d been sober more or less for a while and— Steve interrupted his runaway train of thought with a grin and nudge to the shoulder. “Hope you like pancakes.”

Make me write!

[bunsandstuff]

1. Blood contract

To his ragged breast he placed a palm. Fingers splayed. The moment this desperate man's gaze snapped up it'd met that of a contempt. He wore plainly that what this rava offered fell below the price of what Armand required.

Everything indeed. (Cont. below)

Still he allowed Yukiya to continue. Uninterrupted even. He resumed the stiff stance with his hands graced upon the cane. His thumb rolled over the corvid's obsidian eye. Then to see the bow return ... the moment it did, the cane snapped up with a kick. The metal tipped end aimed to hit Yukiya's bowed chin.

"Foolish jack," he spat. "And selfish too. Did your research not teach you memories remain? Even in the aether? Your love will return -" he stepped forward, invaded the other's space, and pressed the hand of that cane into Yuki's chest. "With every memory you've ever made. He'll seek you out. And when he realizes what you've exchanged for his revival..." He left it to hang.

Deep chestnut pierced that single orb this veena possesed. The honest desire within. "But you are determined, even then, to exchange your life for this Augustine's." He stepped back, cane tapped on carpet, turned away to run a hand over chest as though to wipe away an unpleasant thought. "Your life, correct? For access to this library. You would give even that which the Twelve and then some consider most sacred of all?"

The veena hadn’t accounted for his company to be… so angered by his words. The oncoming cane hit it’s mark earning a wince and grunt from Yukiya. Still, even when struck his first move was not anger but confusion as the docile bun looked up to the other. “If it is selfish, then so be it! But how can you expect me to live another day with what I have done!?” He argued back, his free hand gripping the sheets beneath him as he resisted the urge to stand. “How could I…? In the place he should be?”

But he would say no more, the thought of it was more than breaking his heart, it ached inside it’s tired cage. It was an unhealable wound and judging by this young veena’s face right now it was still as fresh as the day it was made. “…My apologies, I did not mean to contradict you.”

He resigned himself to silence as he heard out the rest of what this ragged man had to say to him. It would seem despite the man warning him he was willing to allow him to move forward with his wish. Yukiya would give a deep nod as he answered, “Yes, without hesitation, I would give everything.” Again came his tired smile as he looked into the other’s eyes.

“Sir, to give my life for his sake would be nothing short of the only good deed I can do with this life I have. Augustine is a man that can change this world for the better. I however am one that could only take things out of it… If anyone deserves to be here, it is him. So please, I ask you, allow me this chance, with my life, to correct the sands of time. I have gil, medicine, connections, anything you desire I will make it so… so please.”

And with his pleas, his wish was granted… the room grew dark and out from it came a claw and a contract. Without hesitation the veena forged his name in blood.

Yukiya Aino

[cannibalisticcorpse]

Hehe you know which one I want more of! 💉

from this ask game

from my WIP: 💉a game of cat and mouse

"Where..?" He jumps slightly at the sound a soft mechanical whirring. His gaze flicks to a stuffed beat sat beside him on the bed. He lifts it, his hands shaking a bit as he pulls the face before his own. The bear itself fit in his hands snugly, the brown fur some kind of smooth synthetic- cheaply made and probably from a drugstore. The glass eyes are odd. One is pure black, while the other has a layer of gray in the center. Something misshaped. He keeps staring at it for a while before the eye seems to move and the mechanical whirring sounds again, this time clearly from the bear. A fucking nanny cam.

[mollyringle]

PLEASE DO make fic/art of my stories! Fandom has kept me happy and sane so many times in my life, and I know it's done the same for lots and lots of you. So, have at it. Also, the corgi says hi.

My books: https://mollyringle.com/all-books